


40 Years of Greatness

by KH310-S (Author_of_Kheios)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Gavin's 40th birthday, Gen, M/M, New Era Birthday Bash, Surprise Party, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 22:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19710400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Author_of_Kheios/pseuds/KH310-S
Summary: Nines has planned a quiet surprise party for Gavin's 40th.Art byMartapuck





	40 Years of Greatness

Gavin fidgets nervously in the passenger seat, twiddling with the hem of his jacket, plucking at the tear in the seat leather, twisting the ring on his middle finger...

I would rather see a band of metal on the next finger over, but it is too early yet for that; his nerves about this alone are enough to show me how uneasy he is in regards to our relationship.

"Gavin," I say, modulating my voice to optimise soothing qualities as I reach over to cover his hand and hopefully stop the fidgeting. Or at least lessen it.

"Would you at least tell me where we're going, tin can?" he grouches, catching my hand between his and lacing his fingers through mine.

"That would reduce the effectiveness of the surprise," I hum, squeezing his hand playfully and glancing away from the road for a moment to smile at him. He flushes scarlet, as he always does when I smile at him, temperature shifting up a hundredth of a degree and heart rate increasing two beats a minute. The fidgeting resumes, for an entirely different reason this time.

"I have anxiety, goddamnit," he grumbles, absently tracing circles on the back of my hand. "You're making me regret putting this on."

He is, of course, referring to his outfit, which consists almost entirely of leather; soft black leather pants that cling to his buttocks, thighs and calves in a way that I can only describe as sinful, matched with a fishnet sleeveless top under an incredibly sexy black leather biker's jacket. Sturdy black combat boots and a variety of silver jewellery complete the look, tied together by a hint of black eyeliner.

"What you wear is hardly important in consideration for where we are going," I point out calmly. "And besides, I rather like this outfit." I make a point of drawing his hand to my lips to kiss his knuckles and his heart beat falters for an instant. I check his vitals thoroughly with another glance, ensuring that he is alright while taking in the embarrassed blush and the petulant pout.

"Fine," he mutters, silver flashing on his tongue. "Whatever." His hand tightens around mine in spite of his dismissal, and I allow myself a pip of smug success.

"There, you see?" I say in a light tone as I park the car in front of the apartment building where Connor and I live. "Nothing to be concerned for; we are at my apartment."

"You coulda said this is where we were going," Gavin mutters, releasing my hand only as long as it takes to unbuckle his seatbelt and get out of the car. "I got all dressed up for nothing."

"Not for nothing," I correct, pausing on the sidewalk to take his hands in mine and pull him close. "For me." His blush returns, temperature hiking up three hundredths of a degree this time.

"Yeah," he mumbles reluctantly, too embarrassed to meet my gaze. "For you."

"Come inside," I say, pitching my voice at a low note that I know he cannot resist. He shivers ever so faintly, proving it yet again, and I delete the urge to grin.

"Yeah, okay," he sighs, already needy. "S'hot out here anyway."

I almost regret that 'taking care' of him will have to wait.

Threading my fingers through his, I lead him inside, IDing myself via wireless input, since I have no biology to scan. I send a ping to Connor as I do, and receive an instant reply that everything is ready. Pleased, I pull Gavin into the elevator with me and push him against the reflective wall even before the doors close. He groans softly into my mouth, clutching at my jacket, and returns the fierce kiss with fervour.

"Jesus, fuck, Nines..." he gasps when the need for air necessitates a momentary break. "You go from zero to a hundred so fucking fast..."

"You find it attractive," I murmur in his ear, nibbling to keep my mouth occupied while he catches his breath. "Knowing at any moment I could be thinking of throwing you up against the nearest surface and pleasuring you. Knowing I can and will do so at a moment's notice." He shudders against me, hips bucking forward.

I underestimated the effect my words would have on him.

"Fucking hell, Nines..." he groans into my neck, fingers digging into my shoulders. "I really hope Connor is out tonight."

Pulling back as suddenly as I pushed him against the wall, I inspect him head to boot, taking in the signs of his arousal; tousled hair, lust-blown eyes, parted lips, hands still reaching toward me, knees locked but quivering almost imperceptibly, like the slightest touch could make him collapse.

"Unfortunately no," I say lowly, pausing for the inevitable curse. He scowls, pushing down his desire and scrubbing at his face with his hands to muffle the expected "god-phckn-damnit..."

I say nothing else, primarily because the elevator pings to a stop on my floor, and the doors glide open. Gavin stops me with a hand on my arm when I move to step out.

"Let's just go back to my place," he requests, frustrated and desperate.

"Your place is a mess," I say blandly. "And we are already here; we can chase Connor away later." Sighing, he follows me without further protest. I key in the entry code and step inside, holding the door for him to enter. "Welcome to my place."

"It’s so..."

"Organised?" I offer, glancing around to make sure the simply furnished main room is clean and orderly and bare of any signs telling of what awaits in the kitchen.

"Fuck you, tin can," Gavin scoffs, raising his ring-encircled middle finger at me.

"Later," I return easily, enjoying the banter. "Would you like to get something to drink while I see about convincing Connor to give us space?"

"Hm. Sure," Gavin hums, and points at the archway leading into the kitchen/dining room. "Kitchen through here?"

"Yes." I take a step toward the door leading to the bedroom, which is separated into two areas by a divider to give Connor and I a similitude of privacy. Then I stop, watching Gavin pass through the arch and feel around on the wall for the light switch.

The light comes on.

"SURPRISE!!" Gavin yelps and staggers back, and I delete the urge to grin again as I step up behind him.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" he gasps, clutching at his chest. "You all tryna give me a heart attack??"

"Chill out, Gav," Tina laughs, flicking long dark curls over her shoulder. She looks rather stunning in a short black cocktail dress with gold fringing at the bottom to match the beautiful gold choker around her neck. It is actually her collar and a symbol of her submission to her dominant girlfriend, North, who fortunately is not here tonight; as much as I and Connor both love her, she and Gavin do not get on well, which does not surprise me given that they are cut from the same cloth, as the saying goes.

"It's your birthday," Markus smiles in agreement, stepping away from Connor's side to pull Gavin back into the kitchen. "Take it from those of us without one; it's a special day."

The leader of the android revolution has a way with words, as always, and Gavin begins to relax, subtly.

It almost amazed me how quickly the two of them got along, especially considering Gavin's initial hatred of androids, but with Connor and I having trailblazed the path to Gavin's emotions, Markus had no trouble working his way into the detective's affections, even if he will likely never admit it aloud.

And both he and Connor are in their Sunday best, so to speak; matching off-black sport coats and slacks with white button-ups undone at the collar. They went the extra mile for this, and that delights me.

"I'm sure he'll forgive us when he's tried my cake," Jeffery calls from deeper in the kitchen, coming into view with said cake balanced carefully on his hands. His dress is more casual, but still worthy of classy business affairs, and I appreciate the effort on top of the promised confectionery.

"Or at least once he's had a couple glasses of whiskey," Hank humphs, setting a bow-tied bottle of the aforementioned alcoholic beverage on the table beside Jeffery's cake. He is likewise outfitted in business casual attire, and his usual mop of hair has been combed and tied back in a low queue. No doubt due to Connor's insistence.

I send my predecessor a ping of gratitude, only to have him reply that Hank insisted upon it himself, relaying the lieutenant's explanation that he once mentored Gavin and wouldn't miss this milestone birthday except in a coffin.

"Happy birthday, Detective Reed," Connor smiles brightly while I'm still processing Hank's surprising amicability.

"How does it feel to be 40 now?" Tina smirks, elbowing Gavin's side. That seems to be all he needs to complete his recovery, and he gives her a dark look that is only 13% effective because he harbours no real malice toward her.

"Old," he says bluntly. "Can I use that as an excuse to preempt the party?"

"After all the work everyone has put into it?" I chide lightly, leaning comfortably against the wall beside the arch. "Come now, Reed; show a little appreciation for lengths to which your friends have gone for you."

"Chris wanted to be here," Tina adds, "but Damien got sick this morning so he couldn't make it. He sends best wishes, though, and this." She holds out a box not much bigger than would normally contain a custom-made pen, and Gavin squints suspiciously at it, making her laugh. "Relax; no one got you gag gifts this time. At least, Chris and I didn't; can't speak for Fowler or Anderson, or Connor or Markus."

"Hey now," Jeffery clucks, grinning.

Gavin opens the box and pulls out a nameplate. Or rather, that is what I assumed it to be, until I see it better; it is, in fact, a plaquette, bearing the inscription _To forty years of greatness, and forty more to come._ His suspicion turns to soft gratitude, and a faint smile crosses his features as he closes up the box and sets it on the end of the table.

"Alright, fine, but if any of you start singing 'Happy Birthday,' I promise, I will shoot you in the kneecap; I don't care who you are."

"I think you misunderstand the purpose of a surprise birthday party," Markus says, clapping his shoulder. "You see, the point is to embarrass the one celebrating his or her birthday. We are singing it whether you like it or not."

"Don't you dare-!"

But Markus has already begun, and everyone else joins in, a surprisingly harmonious adaptation.

"I am going to shoot all of you and then myself!" Gavin proclaims loudly as they complete the tune, the gentle flush of humour across his cheeks belying him.

"Yeah, save it till after the cake," Hank says blandly. "I want some cake and whiskey and then I can die happy."

"Hank," Connor chides as the others laugh.

"What?"

"It's an understandable reaction," Tina cackles. "Fowler's cake is to die for, all pun intended!"

"Screw you, Tina," Gavin scoffs.

"Nuh uh," she returns just as quickly. "North would kill us both, and anyway, I think Nines is planning to cash in on that later." She jerks her chin at me, and I realise rather belatedly that I have been doing nothing but staring at Gavin. I don't look away when he glances at me, and his temperature creeps up four hundredths of a degree, red flushing up his neck into his cheeks.

"Hank, gimme a double shot, stat," he says loudly over Tina's burst of cackling.

"Comin' right up," Hank hums cheerily, pouring a good two inches of amber into a glass for Gavin, and another for himself.

"Hank, take it easy tonight, please," Connor says, anxious until Markus leans over and whispers something that brings a faint blue-white tinge to his cheeks. Their fingers hook together and the skin retracts for interface, making the tinge more visible.

"I will, I will," Hank assures, raising his glad and waiting a second while Jeffery pours two more, one for himself and one for Tina. "A toast... to the most ornery, most ambitious, and probably just the best detective in our precinct. Congrats on making it to forty, Reed."

"CHEERS!"

“Definitely an achievement, considering how often his dumb ass runs headfirst into danger,” Tina smirks after knocking back her drink with a grimace.

“Fuck off,” Gavin snorts, elbowing her.

I nod my thanks to Connor for the flute of thirium he offers me.

“Without this dumbass running headfirst into danger, androids would not have nearly the level of autonomy we do now,” Markus points out, lifting his own flute momentarily in salute.

“That has a lot more to do with your speeches than my stupidity,” Gavin scoffs.

“Doesn’t mean I owe you any less for everything you’ve done these last few years,” Markus insists.

“Which,” Jeffery speaks up, “is why you’ve earned this.” He holds out a real nameplate, and for a moment Gavin just stares at it, baffled.

“...Sergeant?” he reads, shock filtering into his expression. “I... What?”

“The official ceremony is this weekend,” Jeffery grins. “And I’ll be making the announcement tomorrow morning. Congratulations, Sergeant Reed.”

“Now you’ll be reporting directly to me,” Hank smirks over the rim of a second glass of whiskey. “Reminiscent of old times, eh?”

“Yeah,” Gavin breathes, holding the nameplate reverently. “Old times.”

“Mm!” Tina quickly swallows a bite of cake and sets the rest aside to pick up a bundle wrapped messily in bright green wrapping paper dotted with celebration emojis. “Is it my turn? Here, from me and North.”

Curious, Gavin tears into the paper, pointedly ignoring the flash of a camera in Tina’s hands as he withdraws an adult onesie of sorts. A momentary internet search provides the name ‘kigurumi.’ This one has large round ears on the hood and a long tail at the back; a rat.

“Oh my god,” Gavin laughs, holding it up. “What the hell, Tina?”

“You know you love it, babe,” she grins back.

“I do,” he agrees without hesitation. “And I’d put it on now if it wasn’t 90 fucking degrees.”

“Is it too warm in here?” I ask, realising that while Markus, Connor and I have no sense of temperature, our very human guests most definitely do.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Hank humphs. “Better than outside.” Jeffery elbows him.

“A few degrees cooler wouldn’t hurt,” he informs me.

“Oh, sorry,” Connor grimaces. “You could have said something earlier...”

“Relax, Con,” Gavin scoffs. “Like Hank said, it’s better than outside.”

I connect to the thermostat controlling this apartment’s air conditioning system and set it to 75°F, a good seven degrees cooler than the current reading. The system starts up with a hum and cool air blows from the vents. Tina groans in delight, and Gavin sighs happily; Jeffery and Hank relax visibly.

“That’s better,” Jeffery hums. “Thanks, Nines.”

“I’m so sorry,” Connor repeats. “I should have considered...” He trails off when Markus lays a hand on his wrist.

“Let our present make up for it,” he says, tugging Connor out of the way to reveal a magnificently hand-carved cat tree that mimics the design of a real tree, curving trunk supporting jutting ‘branches’ of platforms and nooks and tunnels. The base is lined with grass and scratching mats, and a variety of toys dangle from the branches.

“Markus made it,” Connor beams proudly, glancing at his partner, who smiles and wraps an arm around his shoulders.

“After Connor designed it,” he adds. “I understand your last one is... failing.”

“Falling to pieces, you mean,” Gavin says, awed. “You really made that? I thought your thing was painting.”

“It was a challenge to the scope of my talents,” Markus chuckles. “And well worth it. But if you must know, this is the result of my fifth attempt. You do not want to see the monstrosities that are my first four tries.”

“Only four?” Jeffery’s brows lift in amazement. “Considering you’ve never done this kind of thing before, that’s pretty damn impressive.” Markus dips his chin in pleased acknowledgment.

“Honestly, I think that’s my favourite present,” Gavin says, a sarcastic lilt to his tone as he shakes his head. “Sorry, guys, but my cats come first.”

“After Nines,” Tina ribs, waggling her brows. Gavin’s temperature kicks up a hundredth of a degree, colour racing across his face even as he scoffs.

“Not even,” he says in a tone that leans 68% toward falsehood. “Sorry, tin can, but even you don’t match my cats.”

“I accepted this fact long ago,” I reply easily, assured of my place in his affections. The only reason his feline companions come before me is my independence; I can take care of myself in the event of an emergency.

“You put way too much time and effort into your damn cats,” Hank scoffs, now on his third glass.

“Like you don’t do the same for that mountain of fur and slobber you call a dog,” Gavin retorts.

“He’s gotcha there, Hank,” Jeffery chuckles. “Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t get him a cat toy or something.”

“I didn’t,” Hank humphs, nervousness suddenly spiking to 83%, stress to 46%.

“Then what did you get him?” Tina chimes in, intrigued.

“...Something,” Hank answers vaguely, shuffling his feet and looking anywhere but at Gavin.

“Hank, don’t tell me you forgot,” Connor sighs, exasperated.

“I didn’t forget,” Hank says shortly. “I just... It’s not...” He waves absently at the cat tree. “Fancy or anything...”

“So?” Gavin scoffs, leaning on the edge of the table and picking an icing flower from the top of the cake. Jeffery swats his hand away and cuts him a slice as he adds, “You really think I care about the price tag? Come on; I know I’m an asshole, but even I’m not _that_ bad.”

Hank takes a deep breath and lets it out through pursed lips. Grunting in resignation, he sets his glass down and grabs a plastic bag from beside the table, pulling a coat from it and shoving the bag in his own pocket. He wordlessly holds the coat out to Gavin, who takes it curiously and shakes it out. Then he stands upright, stunned.

“This is...” He looks at Hank in shock. “But I...”

“You wore out the old one, so I got you a replacement,” the older man mutters, burying his nose in his glass.

“But it was _yours_ in the first place... remember?” There’s a wavering note in Gavin’s voice that registers with hope and unease, hinting with fondness; it’s a combination I haven’t heard from him before, and had I not been focused on him already, I would be now.

“I know,” Hanks grunts. “But you never got rid of it, so I figured...”

“Eh? What is it?” Tina pipes up, confused and interested.

“My first real case on the force,” Gavin explains, hope and unease fading into nostalgia as he grips the coat tightly. “It wasn’t the first time I saw someone get shot, but it was the first time it had any meaning, because the gun was in my hand. I kept replaying it in my head afterward, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Hank put his coat around my shoulders and told me that the first time is always the hardest; you never forget it. And he just walked away. I kept it, wore it until it fell apart at the seams.”

“You mean that coat you wore everywhere?” Tina blinks. “That was...? Oh.”

A terse silence hangs in the room for a moment, until Gavin sets the coat on the table, takes two steps, and throws his arms around Hank.

“Jesus, Reed,” Hank huffs, startled. Gavin tightens his hold, and Hank sighs, hugging him back. “Yeah... You’re welcome.”

Tina’s phone beeps. She glances at it and wrinkles her nose.

“Aw, as cute as this is, boys,” she says, grabbing her purse from where she left it on a chair and taking another slice of cake, “I gotta go; North let me out tonight on the condition that get back by nine-thirty and I’m already gonna be late. Text me when you’re heading in tomorrow, Gav; ciao!”

“Hold on!” Gavin calls, pulling away from Hank to hurry after her and give her a quick hug at the door.

“Thought you forgot,” Jeffery smirks at Hank, cutting another slice of cake and offering it to him.

“Like fuck,” Hank mutters. “You have any idea how long I’ve been trying to come up with a way to make up for pushing him away after the shit with Jen and Cole?”

“Since that shit with Jen and Cole,” Jeffery returns, teasing. Hank flips him off as Gavin comes back in, stress levels significantly reduced and endorphins notably increased.

“I think it’s time I go as well,” Markus notes, finishing the last of his thirium and kissing Connor’s cheek. “I have a meeting early that I need to finish preparing for.”

I send a warning ping to Connor, who gives me a bland look in response and catches Markus’ hand.

“I’ll help,” he offers. “Let me just feed my fish.”

“Help?” Hank echoes sceptically, cocking a brow. A faint pale blue colours Markus’ cheeks, and Connor blushes far more deeply, blue tinged white creeping over his face and ears.

“Not... I mean with preparing,” Connot insists.

“Sure you do,” Gavin snickers, nudging me away from the arch so he can lean against the wall beside me. “Didn’t know androids needed preparing.”

“Good night, Sergeant!” Markus says loudly, taking the hint and dragging Connor along with him. He adds a “Happy birthday, Gavin,” as he passes, gripping Gavin’s shoulder for a moment.

“Don’t be late tomorrow, Connor!” Hank calls after them. “We still have to do the follow-up on the Meeker case!!”

“I’ll be there, Lieutenant!” Connor calls back just before the door closes behind them.

“You old farts sticking around, or is it past your bedtime?” Gavin smirks, lacing his fingers through mine.

“These old farts still own your ass, Reed, so watch it,” Jeffery scoffs, carefully picking up the remaining cake and bumping his hip against Hank’s to move him out of the way in order to place the cake in the fridge. I interface with the appliance to ensure that it is on and maintaining a temperature nominal for the confectionery.

“You know, if you want us gone,” Hank says bluntly, “you could just ask. Not like we don’t know what the two of you get up to every chance you get.”

“Honestly,” Jeffery agrees, closing the fridge door and plucking the glass from Hank’s fingers. “Is there any room in the precinct you haven’t defiled yet?” He downs the last of the whiskey in the glass, ignoring Hank’s dark look, and leans past him to set the glass in the sink. “And that includes my office.”

“Take a blacklight around; see what you find,” Gavin challenges with a smirk.

“We are not the only ones who defile the precinct, Gavin,” I note simply. Jeffery snorts, amused, but Hank appears slightly uncomfortable.

“We’re going now,” he says shortly, grabbing Jeffery’s arm and directing him firmly out of the kitchen.

Gavin finally processes the insinuation of my comment, and his jaw drops, eyes widening in an expression of comedic shock.

“No fucking way...” He quickly follows the older men to the entry area, where they pause to don their shoes. “You two- Are you fucking serious?”

“I think the proper question,” I offer, leaning against the arch and enjoying the scene playing out before me, “would be ‘Are you seriously fucking?’”

“Not helping, Nines!” Hank scowls, a dusting of red visible above his beard.

“I dunno,” Jeffery shrugs, nonchalant. “I think it’s pretty accurate.”

“You mean you tw- No,” Gavin cuts himself off. “Nope. Never mind; I don’t wanna know. I don’t need to think about old man dick. Not tonight.”

“Good night, Lieutenant, Captain,” I nod in farewell. Jeffery waves lightly as he leaves ahead of Hank, who hesitates in the doorway, giving me a narrow look.

“...How long have you known?”

“The day after I arrived at the precinct,” I answer plainly. “Android audio processors are far more sophisticated than human ears, mine moreso than most.” The faint blush deepens, and Hank doesn’t even attempt to respond. He closes the door quietly behind him, leaving me and Gavin alone.

“...Talk about a birthday surprise,” he says after a short moment, spinning around on his heel and flipping his arms out. “Probably the only real father figures I’ve ever had are fucking. Good to know.”

“Are you truly that bothered by it?” I ask, amused. He opens his mouth, and then stops to reconsider.

“No, I guess not,” he admits finally, idly scratching his neck. “Just really off guard, you know?”

“Mm. Did you enjoy your party?” Pushing away from the arch, I step toward him, reaching out to place my hands on his hips as he welcomes me.

“Yeah,” he grins. “I’m gonna get you back for tricking me, but it was nice. Especially that shit with Hank; to be honest, I was worried we’d never be able to get back what we lost.”

“I am delighted to hear it,” I smile, making him melt into me. Leaning down, I brush a light kiss against his lips, withdrawing when he chases me for more. “Are you ready for the afterparty, Sergeant Reed?” He grins again, already struggling out of his jacket.

“Fuck yes. Been waiting for my birthday spankings all day.”

“Don’t tempt me.” I capture his lips for a real kiss and drag him with me to the bedroom, closing the door firmly behind us.


End file.
